


tricks of the trade

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-28
Updated: 2010-12-28
Packaged: 2019-01-30 08:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12649893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Koki is an excellent wingman.





	tricks of the trade

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Just watching Jin dance makes him hard.

Yamapi shifts on the VIP couch, the leather creaking as he inconspicuously adjusts himself beneath the tails of his button-down shirt. He glares at his glass like it’s the liquor’s fault, and maybe it is, but that just means that he’s more open to the idea.

He stares across the club, out into the mass of people bouncing and grinding on the dance floor. Amongst them is Jin, rolling his body in a way that never graces the stage, much more personal and focused on the skinny foreign girl he’s moving against.

“If looks could fuck, he’d be bent over and face to the ground.”

Something inside him jumps, but it doesn’t quite make it to the surface. “What makes you think I’m not looking at her?”

Next to him, Koki laughs and takes a swig of his beer. “You don’t look at girls like that.”

It’s true. Especially since Yamapi is now imagining Jin bent over with his face to the ground. He makes a noncommittal noise and sips his drink, eyes locked on those hips that should be rocking back against _him_.

“I’m surprised you haven’t already,” Koki goes on, pausing to light a cigar. “Have you?”

Yamapi shakes his head, then snaps a glare towards Koki. “Have _you_?”

Expressionless, Koki puffs the cigar. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

The strobe lights flash increasingly faster with the upbeat music, seeming to take Yamapi’s heart rate with it as Jin’s movements become more pointed and vulgar. But all he does is take another drink while watching this unimportant club ho get dry-humped and wishing it was him.

“I bet he’d let you,” Koki says casually. “He’s easy like that.”

Yamapi tries to look unaffected as he crosses his legs. “Looks like he’s invested in her.”

“Investments can be traded.” Koki’s smirks shows up in Yamapi’s peripheral vision, and Yamapi rolls his eyes. “Just like _that_.”

He snaps, and it’s like a flip of a switch. It’s not the liquor or the atmosphere but the _urge_ that pulls Yamapi to his feet, calmly placing his glass on the table and strutting purposefully out of the VIP area. He feels like a predator in the wild, his focus on the one in the middle with the golden skin and pulled-back hair, face shining with sweat.

Suddenly Jin looks up and meets his eyes, stopping him in his tracks at the edge of the dance floor. A small hand tugs at Yamapi’s elbow and he indulges her, swaying with the tiny frame that is all wrong for him right now. He doesn’t avert his gaze and neither does Jin, even when his girl gets too close and brushes against the bulge in his pants, forcing him back to the main goal here.

Politely he cuts out on their dance, wading through people as he lessens the distance between him and Jin. Jin’s eyes widen as he gets closer, whispering something to his girl before pushing away from her. At first Yamapi thinks he’s running from him (and won’t admit that the thought turns him on even more), but then Jin tosses a promising smirk over his shoulder that’s so _dirty_ that Yamapi breaks into a run and catches up with him just in time to spin him around and pin him to the wall.

“Pi-” Jin starts, but Yamapi’s in his mouth before anything else can follow. There’s only a brief touch of lips before Jin gasps and Yamapi’s tongue invites itself inside, his arms looping around Jin’s shoulders while his body presses as close as he can. Jin tastes like vodka and cherry limeade, dazed at first but jumping right into it when he realizes what’s happening. He kisses back just as fiercely as Yamapi’s kissing him and it’s enough to distort his mind from that alone.

The corner is dark and uninhabited and will have to do, particularly when Jin’s hands drop to Yamapi’s ass and grab him with a rough thrust. It’s a firm reminder of who he’s dealing with, a far cry from any bitch in this place and Yamapi wouldn’t have it any other way, grinding back just as forcefully. Jin moans into their kiss and it’s the sexiest thing Yamapi’s ever heard, making him nearly hump Jin into the wall as he feels a hard erection rubbing against his.

“Jin,” Yamapi whispers, his voice deeper than usual as his hands rest on Jin’s shoulders. He’s not sure how to ask for this, if he should even ask at all, the tension rising in his arms as he uses all of his willpower to _not_ turn him around.

“What are we doing?” Jin asks, his own voice breathy and husky as his chest rises with much-needed air.

It’s more of a procedural question than moral, which is what leads Yamapi to let go of his inhibitions and send Jin face-first toward the wall. A low groan is enough consent to press flush against his back, grinding between the cheeks of his ass while Yamapi’s hands drop to Jin’s belt.

“Tonight, I’m fucking you,” he growls into the back of Jin’s neck.

Jin makes a shocked noise but doesn’t move to stop him, doesn’t move to do anything except flatten his own hands against the wall to brace himself as he arches back against Yamapi. Fueled by nothing but raw hormones, Yamapi unfastens Jin’s belt and has never before been so grateful that Jin wears his pants way too big as they fall effortlessly to the floor. His boxers are shoved down enough to suffice and Yamapi freezes, becoming very aware that he wasn’t prepared for having sex with another man.

Something is thrown at him and he nearly jumps out of his skin, but then the smell of a fruity cigar wafts past and he’s instantly calmed. He peeks to the side while popping the cap and sees Koki leaning casually against the corner, effectively blocking them from anyone who might walk by. Additionally, the smoke is creating an extra mask.

Yamapi wants to thank him, maybe make a comment to Jin about having an awesome wingman, but then he’s slipping a finger inside him and can’t think of anything other than how this will feel around _him_. He leans his forehead against Jin’s shoulder blade as he gently stretches him, his other hand fumbling to wrap around Jin’s length to make up for the discomfort.

The little moans that lace each exhale are orgasmic in their own right, driving Yamapi to add a second finger, then a third, getting rougher with each one. Jin pushes back against him and Yamapi is about to lose his mind, _this close_ to just pulling out his cock and sinking it deep inside Jin without any further pretense.

Then he hits something that has Jin shuddering and crying out his name – his real one – and Yamapi can’t put on a condom fast enough. He’s pretty sure he popped off the button on his pants in his rush to get them open and he couldn’t care less, hissing at the contact and managing to sufficiently lube himself without losing it.

There is only a second of conscience when Yamapi lines his cock up for entry and he actually thinks about what he’s doing, who he’s doing it with, and what this _means_. Before he can get any further, though, Jin gives a firm grind _backwards_ , taking in the head and switching Yamapi’s focus to the needy sound he makes through the lip caught in his teeth.

Yamapi bends his knees to thrust upwards, clutching onto Jin’s hips while gasping into the back of his collar with each inch that presses inside. He feels it all throughout his body and it’s enough to stay upright, the pressure already too much as he bottoms out and pauses to take a breath.

The breath is cut short when Jin whimpers and rocks back against him, using his momentum from the wall to make it undeniably clear that Yamapi is not to stop. Jin’s so tight that it’s slow at first, pulling out enough to push back in, and on the third cycle he thrusts sharply and gets to hear his name screamed, blending in with the pounding bass.

Yamapi couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, lost in the way Jin’s body molds to him and responds to his efforts. He latches his mouth onto Jin’s neck and pants into his skin, sucking harder when Jin tilts his head to give him more access. Sticking to the hairline, where any evidence would be hidden, Yamapi uses his teeth and feels Jin’s reaction around his cock, arms encircling his waist in some semblance of intimacy as he gives in to the feeling.

His hands bump Jin’s erection and the resulting constriction has him grabbing for it with both hands, pulling him off with one while rubbing the head with the other, and Jin’s head falls back onto his shoulder as his body starts to shake. Jin turns to press his lips to Yamapi’s face and Yamapi manages to meet his mouth, exchanging a sloppy kiss that makes him thrust faster while Jin’s moans die on Yamapi’s tongue.

Yamapi feels the pressure starting to break him and doesn’t think he can hold it off, but then Jin’s crying out and erupting over his fingers and Yamapi has no choice but to follow, snapping his hips a few more times before coming with a low groan. His mind is completely clouded but somehow he remains standing, removing the condom with a wince and fixing his pants (minus the button) before tossing it in the garbage around the corner.

When he returns, he’s pulled into an embrace of warmth and enticing cologne, his barely contained breath taken away by the intensity of this kiss. His hands are seized and wiped with the inside of a hoodie, followed by two sets of laced fingers as Jin seems to have no plans to leave his mouth anytime soon.

It’s Koki who pushes them apart, mumbling about security and needing another drink. Jin laughs and slings an arm around both of them, looking like a drunk needing assistance to walk as they bypass the bar and go straight for the liquor store. Koki’s place is the closest, where they take shots and watch some lame movie while Jin curls up in Yamapi’s lap and Koki partakes in a different kind of smoke.

As Jin sinks to his knees between Yamapi’s legs during the end credits, all Yamapi can think is that at least Koki’s passed out this time. He struggles to keep his eyes open and focused on his length disappearing past Jin’s thick lips, that hot mouth swallowing him whole as soft eyes look up to him for approval. Yamapi drops a hand to his hair, intending to stroke it appreciatively, but he ends up twisting it harshly in his fingers and feels guilty until Jin moans around his cock.

It’s impossible to last long in Jin’s sinful mouth, which sucks him in and out until he chokes on his breath and spills down Jin’s throat. He watches through hooded lids as Jin drinks it all, shaking his head in disbelief because only a few hours ago he was creeping in the club, never once thinking that this could be possible.

“Koki was right,” he teases. “You _are_ easy.”

Jin snorts as he plants his hands on Yamapi’s thighs to push himself up. “Like he would know.”

“Oh?” Yamapi asks, trying to show only a mild interest.

Naturally, Jin sees right through him. He straddles Yamapi’s lap, wraps his arms around his neck, and leans in to kiss him. “The only thing Koki knows is that I’ve wanted you for years.”

Yamapi turns to narrow his eyes at the sneaky, sleeping bastard, who is obviously the best wingman _ever_ , but Jin has other ideas.

“Come on,” he urges, licking the shell of Yamapi’s ear while rolling his body against him and making it very clear that he hasn’t gotten off yet. “I want to fuck you in his bed.”

As he’s pulled down the hall, Yamapi thinks that this is an investment worth making.


End file.
